


Just Get Rid Of It

by fhsa_archivist



Category: The X-Files
Genre: Alternate Universe, Domestic Discipline, Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2005-01-12
Updated: 2005-01-12
Packaged: 2019-02-05 18:01:10
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,644
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12799446
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fhsa_archivist/pseuds/fhsa_archivist
Summary: Alex tries to do a nice thing. For a mouse.





	Just Get Rid Of It

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Haven, the archivist: This story was originally archived at [Fandom Haven Story Archive (FHSA)](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Fandom_Haven_Story_Archive), was scheduled to shut down at the end of 2016. To preserve the archive, I began working with the OTW to transfer the stories to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in November 2017. If you are this creator and the work hasn't transferred to your AO3 account, please contact me using the e-mail address on [Fandom Haven Story Archive collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/fhsa/profile).

Looking at the small creature trapped in the brown translucent plastic box, Fox shuddered. `Just get rid of it Alex. Empty it out the back door.'

 

Walter shook his head. `No. You need to take it away from the house or it'll just come straight back.'

 

Alex lifted the mouse, trapped in the humane trap he had insisted they buy when they realised they had a late-night visitor, and looked at it. `Okay. I won't be long. I'll take it to the fields just over the stream.'

 

Walter frowned. `Be careful Alex. The ground's muddy and uneven. Watch your footing.'

 

`Yes Walter.'

 

Alex had long since given up trying to explain to Walter that: one, he was a grown-up and could take care of himself and two, he had been in much more dangerous situations than whatever it was he was being warned to be careful of, and, miraculously, survived every time.

 

Now, after almost two years of listening to Walter's words, expressed, he knew, out of genuine concern for his well-being, he simply paused, gave the reply he knew Walter expected, then went and did whatever it was. But he was touched Walter cared enough to caution him. He was less pleased at Walter's reaction to his occasional failures to follow the instruction exactly. In the hours following those times he was reminded of Walter's reaction every time he went to sit down.

 

At home, unless he needed to, he rarely used the state-of-the art prosthesis Fox and Walter had bought him for his previous birthday. He was proficient in most everyday tasks one-handed, and, although he considered putting it on, he knew walking a mile or so and releasing the terrified mouse was unlikely to require two hands. So, along with his cell phone, which he didn't imagine he would need either, he left the prosthesis on the dresser in their room and, dressed in a t-shirt and jeans, went back downstairs to retrieve the mouse from outside the back kitchen door where Fox and Walter had insisted he leave it while he dressed.

 

*************

 

//Great. Rain. Stuck in the middle of nowhere with my foot down a rabbit hole, probably with a broken ankle, cold, muddy and now wet. Surely someone would miss him eventually. Wouldn't they? Alex's mind began to work overtime. Suppose they were out. Shopping or something. They could be two hours. Or more. Or if they were finishing decorating the spare room, it could be evening before they noticed he was missing. Trying and failing to stop his tears, Alex wrapped his arm around his torso and huddled into a tight ball.//

 

`Alex has been a while.' Fox said, looking up from his laptop.

 

Walter frowned, putting his book down. He picked up the phone, dialed, then let out an angry breath as Alex's `Close Encounters' ring-tone sounded upstairs.

 

An hour later, both men were worried. `He can't be far. We'll drive out to the stream and see if he's still there.' Walter's casual tone was deceptive, Fox knew. They were both very concerned for Alex's safety. Even now, he still had enemies who would end his life without a moment's pause.

 

************

 

`ALEX?'

 

`AAAAALLLLEEEEXXXX?'

 

Shaken from a semi-conscious doze, Alex struggled to concentrate. He could hear Walter's and Fox's shouts, but in the rain the direction was hard to work out. Lifting himself up, ignoring the sudden shooting pain in his ankle, Alex shouted: `Walter? Fox?'

 

`Alex, thank heaven. Are you hurt?' Walter knelt at his side, hugging the soaking body to him. `It's okay. We're here.'

 

`I'm stuck. I can't move.'

 

Fox moved Alex's leg, gently trying to work his foot free. Eventually, he scrabbled in the soggy earth until Alex's sneaker was visible, washed clean of mud in an instant in the downpour.

 

Walter picked Alex up and carried him quickly across the small bridge, heading for the Jeep. He eased Alex into the back seat, smiling reassuringly at Fox who had opened the far door and climbed in, cradling Alex's dripping head and shoulders on his lap. Walter covered Alex with a blanket and jumped into the driver's seat.

 

`It's okay Alex. We're almost home. You'll soon be warm.' Fox pulled the blanket tightly around Alex's shoulders and chest and gently stroked the dripping hair out of his half-closed eyes.

 

Walter knew that Alex should be checked out by a doctor. He also knew Alex wouldn't even get out of the car if he realised he was outside a hospital. So, reluctantly, he drove home. He would get Alex dry and warm then call their neighbor. Frank Harris, retired army medic would, as usual, take the place of a huge number of medical staff Alex would be poked and prodded by if they went to the nearest hospital instead of heading home. For some reason, Alex tolerated Harris' ministrations without a murmur. Not wanting to upset Alex Walter never questioned him about his lack of reaction to Frank's presence.

 

***********

 

Walter left Fox pulling off Alex's soggy clothes while he went next door, silently praying their neighbor was home.

 

`Nothing broken. It's just a sprain. You know the drill. I-C-E. Immobilise, cool, elevate.' Frank stood up from where he had been leaning down, examining Alex's ankle. `You got an ice pack, right. Wrap it in a towel, put a pillow under Alex's leg, wrap the ice pack round it until the swelling goes down. Take Tylenol if the pain's too bad and no weight on it for twenty-four hours Alex, okay?'

 

`Yes sir.' Alex said in a small voice. Harris intimidated him in a way he couldn't articulate. In some ways he reminded Alex of Walter, but it was more than that. He just wasn't up to thinking about what the `more' was.

 

Fox got up from where he had been standing at Alex's side, holding the trembling hand and trying not to yell as Alex's grip periodically tightened painfully on his hand, corresponding, Fox guessed, with the times Frank's probing fingers caused Alex discomfort. He went into the kitchen and retrieved one of several different sized ice packs that were permanent residents in their ice box. Wrapping the largest in a thick towel, Fox came back in just as Harris was leaving.

 

`Thanks Frank.' Walter

 

`No problem Wisk. Make him take it easy for a day or so, okay?'

 

Walter nodded grimly. `Oh he won't be going anywhere anytime soon.' He replied through clenched teeth.

 

As soon as Harris was gone, Walter came back into the living room. Looking down at Alex, he snarled: `Alex, what the Hell were you thinking? Going off without your cell phone or a jacket!'

 

Both Fox and Alex knew that Walter's anger was his normal reaction to one or other of them getting injured. But they always forgot that fact when he was standing over them in a hospital, their bedroom or the living room, his anger pouring over them as they recovered from some injury or other. And Walter's anger on this occasion was increased by how worried he had been that something much worse had happened to Alex than turned out to be the case.

 

`I'm sorry.' Alex said, genuinely apologetic.

 

Walter's anger dissipated as quickly as it had built. He sighed. `You put your life at risk by leaving the house without your cell phone You know the rules. You're grounded. You do not leave this house for the next seven days unless your life is in danger if you stay, understand?'

 

`Yes sir.' Alex whispered. He had been expecting a much more severe punishment and was shocked at how lightly he had been punished.

 

Walter heard the tone and words of Alex's reply and realised he'd said enough. Alex was in pain, scared and had been punished. Or would be when he could get up and around.

 

He lifted Alex up, dropped him a foot or so further down the couch then sat so Alex's head could rest on Walter's chest. Fox came in from the kitchen and sat on the opposite end of the couch, gently lifting Alex's injured ankle and the uninjured one onto his lap. `Comfy?'

 

Alex half-opened his eyes and nodded. `Mmm.'

 

Walter snorted crossly, but kept silent. Fox flicked through the TV guide then, smiling, picked up the remote, flicked the TV on and the three of them settled down to watch yet another re-run of Die Hard. Walter's groan was all but drowned out by Fox and Alex's sounds of excited anticipation.

 

**************

 

That evening…

 

All three looked up at the same instant at the familiar scrabbling sound. Walter got up and moved several large books in the bookcase. Moments later he pulled a small handgun from the wall safe. `I'm going to kill it.'

 

Alex lifted himself from where he lay on the couch. `Walter, please…it could have a family…'

 

Walter looked back at Alex, sighed, closed his eyes for a long moment and returned the gun to the safe.

 

Wordlessly, Fox got up and went into the kitchen. Walter and Alex listened as Fox set the humane trap then came back in. `In the morning, we'll drive out and dump it at the back of those old factories. People dump stuff there all the time.'

 

`Including rodents with a death wish?' Walter asked, one eyebrow cocked.

 

`Especially them.' Fox said cheekily.

 

Walter was too tired to get into a discussion on the subject of Fox's tone. `Okay. Just get rid of it.'

 

Alex flicked through the TV guide, his eyes lighting up as he read the evening's film listing. `Fox, National Lampoon.'

 

Fox giggled and looked at Walter's closed eyes and shaking head. `Walter?'

 

Sighing loudly, Walter said wearily: `Put it on. And no talking over the dialogue.'

 

`But we're word perfect. On all of them.' Alex said in a hurt tone.

 

Walter groaned. `I know.'

 

End


End file.
